Fast 'n' Bulbous Reviews: Quick Impressions 2003 Archive
A Frames, A Frames 2 (S-S) A Frames are a fascinating oxymoron – a sci-fi obsessed band with futuristic Kraftwerkian lyrics who sound like complete technophobes, with not a single apparent electron of digital processing. Instead, they mix hard-hitting drums and bass reminiscent of Shellac and Gang Of Four with raggedly repetitive Fall guitar riffs, spare Wire-y arrangements and Erin Sullivan’s deadpan, nearly elegant Ian Curtis vocals. Could be a drag, but it’s actually a blast. This rocks in its own unique groove, satisfying that itch that Brainiac and Six Finger Satellite teasingly tickled a decade ago.
Daúde, Neguinha Te Amo (Realworld) Neguinha Te Amo is an Afro-Brazilian force of nature that seemingly came out of nowhere. Actually Daúde, born in Salvador, Bahia, has been recording since 1995. Well versed by her family in all Brazilian musical traditions and degreed in Portuguese and Literature, she cut her teeth in musicals in Rio de Janeiro. An homage to Brazilian women, the legacy of mixed races and Africa, Neguinha is her second album to be produced by Will Mowat (Soul II Soul, Angelique Kidjo), given a polished sound without repressing the exhuberant polyrhythmic grooves, particularly in the scintillating "Alá-Lá-Ô." Daúde's voice is commanding yet sensuous throughout, occasionally settling into gentle post-Tropicália bossa nova. The melodies of "Canto de Ossanha" recall the best of Gilberto Gil's, the rhythms mixing inventive, contemporary dance rhythms with traditional in songs like "É Foi Mamãe Que Me Disse" Daúde is a welcome, fresh voice to the white-dominated Nova MPB (New Música Popular Brasileira) scene.
Do Make Say Think, Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn (Constellation) It's next to impossible to keep track of what members belong to which band in the Montreal music scene. With some bands ballooning to a dozen members, it's like a big orgy of musical inbreeding. Yet unlike Appalacia or the Royal Family, they've actually produced some good-looking progeny. Along with impressive releases from Set Fire To Flames, The Silver Mt. Zion and Broken Social Scene, Do Make Say Think have shown that Godspeed You! Black Emperor aren't the only happening band in town. Already on their fourth album, Do Make Say Think have produced their best work yet. Divided into three movements per the title, Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn, there are some similarities with GY!BE, though they are less prone to bombastic crescendoes. Rather, the music ebbs and flows, evoking images and feelings rather than forging mountains out of lava. The subtleties rely on more detail and texture, which can be just as rewarding, with more varied creative use of instruments treated with effects, electronics and dub rhythms. Every "hymn" has its pleasant surprises, the most satisfying being the middle, presumably Country Hymn section, with the exquisitely somber beauty of "107 Reasons Why," and the Henry Cow-like chamber-jazz of "Ontario Plates," which ends up shattering into glorious, noisy shards at the end. "Horns Of A Rabbit" is the showiest track, and at 4:02, their most concise example of their talents, combining the melancholy beauty of horns, strings and backwards guitars with a rocking and crashing drums, showing that they can't deny the passion and fury coarsing through their bloodline.
Ed Harcourt, From Every Sphere (Astralwerks/Heaven) Harcourt's second album was released with little fanfare and hype, but it's quietly nestled into many year-end lists. Anyone with an ounce of patience will delight in the pleasures that unfold from this grower. From Every Sphere also builds on the argument that Harcourt transcends the singer-songwriter ghetto and approaches the ranks of Bowie, Waits and Cave. Here the production is less flashy than the Dave Fridmann-produced Here Be Monsters. That's not to say there isn't a rich array of instrumentation. The arrangements are just slightly stripped down, with a grittier feel. "Undertaker Strut" and "Ghost Writer" pound and lurch the earth, while the silvery sweetness of "All Your Days Will Be Blessed" and "The Birds Will Sing For Us" shed the dirt and soar. "Sister Reneé," "Jetsetter" and "Watching The Sun Come Up" mix striking melodies and worldweary, wise-beyond his years lyrics, revealing a deeper grasp of the mysteries and disappointments of life as Harcourt steadfastly tours, matures, and documents his reflections into his impossibly huge backlog of songs (reportedly over 300) for a 26 year-old. After mourning the tragic losses of Johnny Cash and Elliott Smith, don't forget to celebrate the arrival of new colossal talent like Ed Harcourt.
Head Of Femur, Ringodom Or Proctor (Greyday) Head Of Femur are a music geek/trainspotter’s wet dream. One can hear bits of Roxy Music, early Eno, Talking Heads, Zombies, Love, Flaming Lips, Camper Van Beethoven, Neutral Milk Hotel, Sparks, Magma, Polvo, Helium . . . with almost as many members as influences (18), it sounds like it could be an overly precious mess. Yet it works, thanks to relatively disciplined songwriting by core members Ben Armstrong, Mike Elsener and Matt Focht. The weak link is the quirky, chaotic vocals. They sound phoned in from the house next door, as if they’re too embarrassed to let the lyrics be heard. But the big, swervy tunes and rich multi-instrumental arrangements more than make up for it.
Mark Lanegan Band, Here Comes The Weird Chill EP (Beggars) Owner of one of rock's best voices, former Screaming Trees leader Mark Lanegan already has five excellent solo albums under his belt. Joining Queens Of The Stone Age has brought him more deserved exposure, and the band's boundless creativity has brought his own work to new heights. Tellingly changing the moniker to Mark Lanegan Band, with help from Queens Josh Homme and Afghan Whigs/Twilight Singer Greg Dulli, Here Comes The Weird Chill does sound like a band. "Methamphetamine Blues" pounds hard with industrial strength buzzsaws, and Homme's guitar sounding remarkably like Queen's Brian May circa Sheer Heart Attack. The distorted, junkyard cover of "Clear Spot" maps a clearly marked trail directly from Captain Beefheart to Tom Waits. "Message To Mine," with its psychedelic organ and chorus is the closest he's sounded to his old band in years. The fantastic piano-accompanied "Lexington Slow Down" revels in Lanegan's deep, gravelly voice, which has aged well over the years like fine bourbon. One would hope Nick Cave might hear this and be dutifully inspired to snap back to the program. "Skeletal History" simmers menacingly with minor key guitars. Subtitled Methamphetamine Blues, Extras & Oddities, it's remarkable that the EP is just a warmup, as it betters 99% of the albums released this year. An enticing hint at more to come (2004's hotly anticipated Bubblegum).
M83, Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts (EMI FR) When My Bloody Valentine's epoch-defining blissout masterpiece Loveless came out, everyone was dying to know what was going to top it. When Kevin Shields pulled a Brian Wilson and dropped out of contention, that answer seemed left unanswered. Or perhaps partially answered, by the post-rock of Disco Inferno and Bark Psychosis. French synth duo M83 aren't necessarily breaking new ground with technology that dates back to 70s Kraftwerk and Brian Eno, but they've done a wonderful job in replicating the hypnotic multi-toned harmonics of My Bloody Valentine, substituting synths for the distorted guitars. The result is somewhat less gauzy, but equally transportive and hallucinatory. Less songs than looped textures with slow-moving melodies blanketed on top, with a swirl of psychedelic color, Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts really does offer a new twist in sound and approach, while avoiding cliche in a way that Air and Fennesz achieved a few years back. Named after an intensely beautiful spiral galaxy, M83 don't evoke the ambient awe and dread of vast space like Amon Tobin can, but tracks like "Gone" come pretty close, and are more than capable of wiping all electroclash residue from your memory, leaving only the pleasant afterglow from the fragile "Beauties Can Die."
Menomena, I Am The Fun Blamemonster (Muuuhahaha!) Who'd have thunk post-rock could be fun? Possibly named after a song from the Muppet Show, Menomena are a bunch of supergeeks from Portland who developed a computer program called Deeler that uses loops to "facilitate improvisational recording," according to programmer Mark Knopf. Sounds as exciting as chemistry lab? Much more so, in fact, in that revelatory "oh wow" feeling you get when you discover something new, and realize by looking at the brilliant album art that the name comes from letters rearranged from the words “The First Menomena Album.”. Nor are they as wacky as their muppet name suggests, as many of their songs are fairly dark. However, their clever innovations and diverse sounds are indeed fun, like a creepy carnival funhouse. They loop and layer and mix electronic songs until they decide they like it, and then learn how to play them acoustically. It's a gimmick somewhat similar to Lake Trout's recent approach to recreating drum 'n' bass electronica with their instruments. The results sound loosely influenced by Radiohead, Beta Band, Mogwai and Tortoise with hip hop beats and electronica, but with vocals and pop elements like Broken Social Scene. Despite the influences, their sound is utterly fresh. There's some great tunes here too. "The Late Great Libido" is like a Britpop song, but not boring. "Twenty Cell Revolt" begins suspensefully with pounding drums and Morphine-like baritone sax, punctuated with succinct outbursts of soaring, melodic choruses. "Strongest Man In The World" kicks off with deliciously menacing, echo-laden organ, pausing for melancholy piano breaks, like Portishead gone schizo. This will probably be reissued in '04 and top everyone's lists. Don't wait for label marketing campaigns to tell you when it's cool to like something, snatch it up now!
Juana Molina, Segundo (Domino) A first impression of former Buenos Aires television star Juana Molina's twee, breathy vocals and understated pastoral electronica is that it's more charming than impressive. While language is somewhat of a barrier if you don't know Spanish, a closer listen reveals deeper depths of talent. For example, the highly acclaimed Beth Orton received ridiculously hyperbolic accolades for essentially draping Nick Drake-inspired folk with superficially decorative electronic flourishes. Yet Segundo's production reveals sonic details expertly interwoven into the fabric of the songs, much like recent Matmos-assisted Björk, Boards Of Canada and Broadcast. "Mantra del Bicho Feo," for example, is a digital jungle of robotic bird songs, melodic squeaks and swirling processed vocals. At over 70 minutes, there's a lot to absorb, and while the styles and sounds are varied, they bleed into each other. Repeated listens offer new rewards each time, like the hornlike synths and rhythm track on "El Pastor Mentiroso" that resemble recent Notwist and just a touch of Another Green World-era Eno. The deft melodies reveal a Brazilian bossa nova influence (her household once hosted Chico Buarque and Vinícius de Moraes), making her work compatible with the flowering young Brazilian talent like Bebel Gilberto, Moreno Veloso, Otto, Lucas Santtana and Fernanda Porto. While somnambulist beauty is the main course, tracks like the atonal "Medlong" break the pattern, reminding you that this is art, dammit, not yuppie aural wallpaper. It won't be enough to ward off the capuccino slurpers, however. Molina will seduce listeners from every walk of life, no matter what your lifestyle.
Tujiko Noriko, From Tokyo to Naiagara (Tomlab) The universal point of comparison used to turn folks on to Tujiko Noriko has been Björk. I suppose one needs to start somewhere. They're both women who sing in foreign accents (Noriko sticks to her native Japanese), who incorporate electronica into their songs. Beyond that, it's the differences that really make Noriko special. One enjoys Björk for, among other things, her eccentric vocals ranging from growls to howls, her eclectic sounds and well-crafted songs. There's action, movement, drama. Listening to Noriko is like sipping champagne and gazing into a crisp night sky with a powerful telescope. What would be merely pleasant as a background (a bright canopy of stars), becomes an intensely engrossing experience when focused into the details. Her soft, clear vocals are more reserved, though every syllable and sigh are plenty expressive. The music, while bearing some superficial resemblences to Vespertine, actually leaves it in her pixie-dust. The rich, warm sonic details are nearly excruciatingly gorgeous, surpassed only by the more dynamic Four Tet. From Tokyo to Naiagara is Noriko's fourth release, taking a significantly more accessible path with the booklet offering translations of her personal lyrics, little microdramas that reveal small details (in "Kiminotameni," “Lovers and Moms are / dancing / beneath blue and black skies / I’m far away and still / hear the rhythm"), just like her music.
Oceansize, Effloresce (Beggars Banquet UK) True to their name, Oceansize make big music. Not in the dorky 80s sense, nor in the pre-shoegazer “oceanic rock” of My Bloody Valentine. Oceansize are more like ’69-’71 period Pink Floyd with the crispy black gothic heart of Sisters Of Mercy. Loud bursts of triple-guitars sound alternatively like bristling math rock (remember Rodan?) and Radiohead via jokey mid-90s Radiohead coverband Muse. Songs with vocals are generally more engaging than the instrumentals, which hover and meander too often. The weighty songs lack the true depth to make this an event album. But it does sound cool in headphones. Which means Effloresce will inevitably become this decade’s Dark Side Of The Moon. Consume accordingly, and resume shopping as usual.
Pelican, Australasia (Hydra Head) Just like you scrub away the day's grime with a loofah, sometimes you need to sandpaper away of unpleasant memories of bad radio you're subjected to. Pelican's Australasia is the perfect cure. While its roots in instrumental grindcore and post-rock, it's affiliation with Isis via its label, give vibes of difficult listening, it's actually quite relaxing. That is, if you have any background appreciation of super-heavy music at all. There's evidence of some Sabbath and Melvins style powerchords, tuned down and the tempo cut in half, and arty doom-dirges of God, Godflesh and Scorn. As background music Australasia's tempo seems consistent, its tone satisfyingly thick, massaging the lower registers of your hearing. Put on the headphones (or risk your lease and crank the sound system) and allow your biochemistry to slow down and meld with the music, and technicolour worlds open up. The dynamics magically expand and guitar riffs become impossibly huge, as if weilded by gods to chop down mountains (as one guitar god used to do). The tracks (half of which run over ten minutes) may be hard to differentiate at first, but soon you'll have every note burned in your subconscious, providing "dunh-dunh-duuunnnhh" soundtracks to enliven all your routine daily activities.
Josh Rouse, 1972 (Rykodisc) 1972 is a tribute to Josh Rouse's birth year, his guitar, and of course the music: Neil Young, Nick Drake, Curtis Mayfield, Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Isaac Hayes, Van Morrison, T. Rex, Steely Dan, Jackson Browne and AM radio. What's remarkable is this is hardly a nostalgia album. Every unique, polished song avoids sounding much like anyone but Rouse. "Love Vibration" is a rousing singalong that deserves its first single status. The banging percussion and melodies of "Sunshine (Come On Lady)" is even more uplifting. Though many of the lyrical themes are dark, the music is mostly joyous. "Comeback (Light Therapy" is steered by one of the year's best bass riffs, while "Under Your Charms" dims the lights and gets seductive in a not-so-subtle sloe-eyed manner, while embarking on some delicious symphonic soul. "Flight Attendant" recalls childhood angst to a delicate jazz shuffle, taking off into the blue yonder at the end atop a soaring horn section. "Sparrows Over Birmingham" features a gorgeous gospel-blues chorus. Each song is a perfectly realized moodpiece, with a beautifully clean production worthy of its inspirations. As emotionally evocative as last year's Under The Cold Blue Stars was, this tops it by a country mile.
Lucas Santtana, Parada De Lucas (Diginois Brazil) Originally a flautist, Lucas Santtana is one of the brightest young talents in Brazil, alongside Moreno Veloso and Otto. With only two albums under his belt, he’s been active in the scene for more than a decade, having worked with Chico Science & Nação Zumbi and Arto Lindsay. Parada De Lucas is a bold step forward from 1999’s Eletro Ben Dodo, reviving the long-dormant Tropicália aesthetic with funky, eclectic electronica, tuneful hooks that are toughened up with a rougher mix. The sole, minor caveat is the cover of Marley’s “Punky Reggae Party” doesn’t surpass the original like his ’99 treatment of James Brown’s “Doin’ It To Death.”
Shack, Here’s Tom With the Weather (North Country) Kicking around infrequently since 1988, Here’s Tom With the Weather is only the Liverpool brothers Mick and John Head’s fourth album. This unassuming sleeper will quietly eclipse lesser UK merchants of mediocrity Travis, Starsailor and Electric Soft Parade, sadly not in sales, but certainly in critical status. Never ones to follow trends, the album is a lovely autumnal folk gem in the vein of Nick Drake, Fairport Convention and Simon & Garfunkle. Hooks worthy of The Beatles and Squeeze are sparingly sprinkled throughout. Don’t wolf it all down at once, savor until their next leftfield surprise in 2008.
Stars, Heart (Arts & Crafts) With The Dears, Hawaii, Broken Social Scene and Montreal's Stars, it appears this is some sort of Canuck invasion of soft, googley-eyed lover's pop. Rather than the sickening couples who flaunt their happiness in a way that makes you cringe, Heart is attractive enough that you're more liable to gawk and think enviously to yourself, "I want me some of that." "What the Snowman Learned About Love," starts with a dangerously cloying series of answering machine messages, but is quickly redeemed by this year's most alluring string-laced synth pop. Like other happy pop couples (Luna's Dean Wareham & Britta Phillips, Cinerama's David Gedge & Sally Murrell), Stars pull it off because their love songs avoid clichéd vapidity found in most pop by tempering the romance with doubt, melancholy and yearning. Every tune tells a different story, set to sparkling, sophisticated musical accompaniment. An array of acoustic chamber instrumentation adds to the lovely veneer. If you're too lazy to assemble a love/mash mix with The Magnetic Fields' more wistful moments, Trembling Blue Stars and So Tough-era Sainte Etienne, Heart will do the job quite nicely.
Rokia Traoré, Bowmboï (Tama) Mali's Rokia Traoré has garnered plenty of acclaim for her first two albums, particularly 2000's Wanita. Bowmboï may be her defining statement, as it truly stretches out. An excellent musician, having mastered acoustic guitar (mentored by the great Ali Farka Touré), ngoni (lute) and balafon (xylophone), not to mention her rapidly maturing vocals, Traoré adds the recording studio to her repertoire, shaping an overall more innovative sound. The most obvious departure is her collaboration on two tracks with avant-classical Kronos Quartet, who add an almost Asian lilt, evoking the feel of Yungchen Lhamo's Coming Home. On "Mariama" she takes the legendary Malian singer Ousmane Sacko on a musical ride with elaborate instrumentation, and her unusually layered vocal choruses in "Manian" revel in detailed textures, isolating syllables like Laurie Anderson meets Sheila Chandra. Ignoring archaic boundaries of "authenticity," Traoré has created a groundbreaking epochal statement that eclipses even Salif Keita's Soro, a sweet victory when her country usually dismissed women songwriters. Revel in the shock of new.
TV On The Radio, Young Liars EP (Touch and Go) The debut EP of this Williamsburg combo introduces one of the most distinctive new voices in rock. Tunde Adebimpe sounds like a mix of Pere Ubu’s David Thomas and Genesis-era Peter Gabriel, topped with an exquisitely melancholy lilt. The band’s no slouch either, including David Andrew Sitek, who produced recent albums by The Liars and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They’ve come up with a startlingly fresh sound, mixing electronica, filmic instrumentals and even doo-wop and gospel (see the stunning acapella cover of The Pixies’ “Mr. Grieves”). Expect great, great things from their 2004 full-length.
The Twilight Singers, Blackberry Belle (One Little Indian) Fans of The Afghan Whigs’ Joy Division-tinged doom-and-gloom treatments of soul classics will rejoice with singer Greg Dulli’s second album with The Twilight Singers. While the debut was somewhat watered down (thanks to the overly fey touch of Fila Brazillia), Dulli has recovered his furry hat and cane, and is strutting like the heartsick pimp he thinks he is. Forceful, driving symphonic soul. Don’t miss their 3-song EP that includes a wrenching cover of Nina Simone’s “Black Is The Color Of My True Love’s Hair.”
Hawksley Workman, Lover/Fighter (Universal) This young Canadian singer/songwriter’s first two albums were incredible achievements, mixing Freddie Mercury’s flamboyance with Jeff Buckley’s vocal calisthenics and unhinged passion. All signs pointed toward a third album that would blow the top off all expectations, and contemporaries like Rufus Wainwright off the stage. Yet rather than make a deal with the devil a the crossroads, it sounds like he cut a compromise with a lowly demon (Universal – “Do us a favor kid and tone down the weird stuff and give us a hit will ya?”). The lead track, “We Will Still Need A Song” is a crushing disappointment. His eccentric vocal quirks have disappeared, replaced by a smooth Bono-esque croon, the chorus as simplistic and dull as anything in the top 40. Yet Workman can’t remain subdued for long, as the song is nearly salvaged in the end by one of his fantastic falsetto yodels. While still fairly homogenous stylistically, the album recovers with a solid set of well written songs with thoughtful, heartfelt lyrics, rich imagery and gorgeous singing. Let’s hope this one sells enough to get the Man off Workman’s back so he have the freedom to truly flame.
Zoot Woman (Wall Of Sound) Zoot Woman’s popular debut Living In A Magazine reeked of bandwagon-jumping, a second-rate electroclash knock-off briefly riding the coattails of artists like Ladytron, doomed to be forgotten like the hordes of nameless trip-hop biters. Which makes their second album such a pleasant surprise. They toned down the electro affectations, creating a batch of synth-assisted guitar pop songs that share Tahiti 80’s melodic sensibility, but with more substantial songwriting, ending up closer to The Notwist’s recent work and Colder (particularly in the lovely New Order pick-plucked bass melody of “Gem”).
